


Coffee?

by cinderadler



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Bisexual Male Character, Boss/Employee Relationship, Drunken Kissing, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Singer Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 17:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderadler/pseuds/cinderadler
Summary: We shouldn't.Singer AU. Mickey works in Ian's bar, they grab a drink after closing up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ♥

_We shouldn’t._

 

 

There is a peculiar moment of silence between us as we stand on the steps to my front door. We say nothing. We just look at each other; a hundred, thousand thoughts racing in our heads. The porch light behind me illuminates my hair intricately, it makes his eyes shine with a brilliant cheapness that only bright lights can bring.

I wanted this. He wanted this. We shifted in place and tried to move against the space between us that repelled us. We were looking to fill this void for a moment.

 And we do, all of a sudden. Something happens in both of us, or maybe one of us and the other just feels it, and I lean forward and he steps up. We kiss, softly and sloppily; the result of one too many tequilas. He reaches up to touch my ear and hold my neck. I place my hand on his cheek and he pulls us apart.

“No.” He says, sharply.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” I tell him, looking him in the eyes for answers. He’s not lying, but I’m not either.

“I’m your boss. I can’t-”

“-No, I shouldn’t have-”

“-You didn’t, I mo--”

“-please.” I pause. “No.” I relent as we look at each other again, suspended in a quiet moment of catching our breath.  I want it. I want him. He tries to stay calm and concentrate as I see him struggling with himself. His eyes flick down to look at my lips. I concentrate on his furrowed brow, his ginger hair which is almost blonde at the roots, his conscious lip curl. I run my hand through my hair; nervous and confused. He’s watching me watch him.

“It’s a dangerous game.” He says, breaking the silence.

“Teach me the rules.” I ask him in earnest. As I turn my head slightly, the porch light catches my freckles. I feel small, immediately. Small and young with something to lose. “I’ll play.” I whisper against his ear. He runs his hand up my leg and touches my chest. I try not to flinch. I kiss him and he kisses me, passionately. He cradles my head with his hands rested around my neck as I walk him backwards with me up the steps, into the porch light. He is fierce, but so am I. He knew that when he employed me. He can hear it when I sing, twice a night for a fistful of dollars and a six pack.

Someone opens the door behind us and walks out. Their movement is so fluid, from opening and slamming the door to walking down the steps and out of the chain-link gate. I think my heart stops in my chest when we hear the door open and fly apart like a plaster pulled off a cut. I wipe the back of my hands over my mouth as the body tears past us.

“I’m going to the Alibi. Love you.” Angie calls out at me.

“You too.” I cough, spitting out the mouthful of air I breathed in in a panic. Angie has disappeared into the dark by the time I speak. He looks at me with curious, wide eyes. His heart is hammering like mine is.

“Mick--” He starts.

“Go home, Ian. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Sing for me?”

“You pay me, so I kinda’ have to.”

“We both know that not quite true.” Ian laughs, adjusting his collar and tie.

I bite my lip and take off my jacket. I look out to the street, into the road and watch two cars race past. It’s always alive in the middle of the night. I look up past the broken porch roof to the few stars there are up there and breathe out heavily.

“What’re we doing here?” I ask him.

“Playing games.” Ian rests him weight on his outstretched arm, leaning on the railing. “I’ll teach you.” I go to speak then stop myself as he watches me, quietly amused. I turn to look at my beaten-up front door then back to this lanky guy I work for.

“I don’t love her anymore.” I tell him, gesturing down the street to where Angie was minutes ago.

“I know. I can tell. Every other song of yours is some sad anthem.”

“I didn’t need to tell you. I wanted to.”

“I know that too.”

“Fine. Coffee?” He leans towards me as though he’s going to step forward, smiling, but then pulls himself back as he catches my eye.

“Some other time.” I smile at him, flashing my teeth in the glow of the porch light. I walk up the steps and open the door, leaving it open.

“Some other time.” I promise him as I close the door. I can hear his footsteps through the open window as he retreats down the steps and opens the gate, leaving.

 

_We shouldn’t, and still we do._


End file.
